MIRACLE IN THE HOLY CITY
An Italian story
The Holy City of Rome is beautiful and impressive gallery of
historical sites, churches and cathedrals. But on Sunday around lunchtime it is
as sleepy as a small village in a lost valley. And at exactly that time our
tourist bus stopped in front of Vatican gates.
“You have one hour
for looking around or shopping,” says our Slovak guide optimistically.
He did not notice
that there was no place for shopping and nothing too much to look around at.
Most members of our tourist group resigned to this fact and tried to find a
toilet or munched on their last home-made sandwich. But my wife and I had an
important duty – to buy something, in the worst case anything, for our
relatives back home. How we should explain them that we did not found time to
acquire some “typical Italian” articles when in Rome? Well, we had time, but
little hope.
“It’s no good,” said
my wife, “maybe we will buy something on the way
back home.”
“Forget it,” I
answered, “our drivers will try to reach home so quickly that it will be
difficult to stop them even at borders.”
I knew that there
was only one solution to this problem – a miracle. And where else if not in
Holy City?!
“Let us go,” I said.
“Where?” asked my
wife.
“Let us go and we
will see,” I said, and went. My wife followed me as generations of other wives
before her followed their foolish husbands – with resignation and reluctance.
But we moved, at least.
I chose a direction
impulsively turning left from Saint Peter’s Square down a long, deserted
street. It was hopeless. Not only was there not one shop open; worse, there
were no shops at all. But I insisted we would find one, and my wife stopped
complaining. We didn’t talk. In fact there was nothing to talk about. The only
sounds we heard in the hot sunny midday were our steps and voices of people
over the sounds from spoons, knives and forks celebrating Sunday lunch. There
can be hardly a less sensible mission. But it did not last long – after a few
hundred meters we came to the outskirts of the city! It was hard to believe
that this giant town ended only a short walk from the city center, but
according to all indications there was nowhere to go. The street changed into a
little lane leading to some pine woods. There couldn’t be a less promising
place for shopping.
My wife start
smiling the way that generations of wives before her have shown their foolish
husbands that this particular idea was another one that failed. I wanted to say
something to her, but words can’t help. Our pilgrimage for a miracle ended with
a failure. It was time to turn back.
As we turned – we
saw it. Not only a shop and not only an open shop, but a whole shopping center
– open for business! It was on the opposite side of street and somehow hidden
from the direction we came. Our shopping spree did not last long. We were the
only customers in the whole shop, and there was only one cashier. As we were
approaching her with shopping-cart full of ’typical Italian gifts’ I saw a
shelf with razors.
You certainly know
that paradox – you can buy classic razors cheaply but replacement blades are
really costly. And here they had blades for a relatively low price, and I
desperately needed some new ones back home. This was a bonus on top of our
shopping! But there was only a small problem. We had no more money left. For a
while I stood with my wife in front of the shelf and tried to calculate and
recalculate what could we leave out from the gifts to our relatives, but we had
already made the list as short as possible. Well, miracles have limitations.
So, I had to forget about razor blades. We moved to the cashier and paid for
our shopping.
While I was paying,
my wife pushed shopping-cart to the exit. I followed my wife and I suddenly saw
something falling from the shopping-cart. I was stunned for a moment. It was
the package of blades we had not been able to buy. I looked at my wife, but she
was occupied by packing our goods. I looked at the cashier, but she did not
even look in our direction. I reached for the gift fallen from heaven and went
to show it to my wife. It was unbelievable. There is no explanation how the
package of blades hopped into our shopping-cart. We were too far from the
shelf, and we were merely glancing at it. Nothing more. But the blades were
here in my hand and my wife put it into plastic bag without hesitation.
“That’s bonus from
God, you shopping genius,” said she, and hurried me back to the bus.
Well, this was
really a little miracle. Only one thing I had to add – I am not an expert on
razor blades, and it seems that God isn’t either. Coming home I soon realized
that the blades from Rome’s miracle shopping center were not the type useful
for my razor. Well, even miracles have definitively their limitations.
Available in E-books:
Available in E-books:
http://itunes.apple.com/sk/ book/svetje-maly-the-world-is-
small/id554103459?mt=11
http://itunes.apple.com/sk/ book/le-monde-est-petit-world-
is/id554104733?mt=11
http://itunes.apple.com/sk/ book/the-world-is-small-svet-
je-maly/id554101744?mt=11
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